


Someone Else's Comfort

by madrastic



Series: SAYER College AU [3]
Category: SAYER (Podcast)
Genre: DLDR, Fluff and Smut, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Light Bondage, Nonbinary Character, Other, god this file took for fucking ever to edit, when will god stop my sinful hand, yeehaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 22:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19412368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrastic/pseuds/madrastic
Summary: Future's room is cozy, but sometimes, they just get so tied up in their thoughts that someone needs to bring them back to the present.





	Someone Else's Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> this file's been in my edit queue for like 3 weeks jfc. i've been sitting on it since feb, congrats

The ropes dug into Future’s wrists as they arched their back up, hungry for any form of friction against their already-leaking cock. The freshly cleaned sheets shifted under them, wrinkling under their back as their body returned to a resting position, peering up over their chest at the figure leaning in the open doorway. Amusement written clear on his face, button-up shirt and jeans pristine as always.

“Speaker, c’mon, it’s not funny anymore!” Future whined.

“Now, who said I was being funny?” Speaker replied, folding his arms across his chest and resting his head against the doorframe.

“Speaker,” Future gave another experimental tug on the ropes. Not enough slack to do anything of consequence, or inconsequence, for that matter. “I’m bored.”

“Oh,” Speaker crossed the room, pressing his palms into opposite sides of the bed, between Future’s legs, squaring his weight over them. “You’re bored?” He grinned at Future, at the sweat sticking their white hair to their face, reaching out a hand to brush the strands gently, so gently, off of their forehead, fingers barely making contact. He could see their breath catch for just longer than the blink of an eye before they reasserted control.

“You’re such a tease.” Future tried to push their chest up, straining to press their lips to Speaker’s. Speaker’s hand on their chest urged them back down, denied as Speaker pushed himself back up, out of Future’s face.

“Well if you want stimulation,” Speaker’s hand wandered down, ghosting little circles down their inner thighs before wrapping a firm hand around the base of their dick, pulling appreciative moans and chuckles out of them, “then you should’ve just asked.”

“I did.” Future thrust his pelvis up into Speaker’s hand, grinning.

“You didn’t.” Speaker removed his hand, instead moving to undo his belt, stepping out of his jeans. “You demanded, there’s a rather large difference.” He stepped over Future’s bound leg, positioning himself between their legs, lining himself up with their already-prepared ass.

“I’d consider that asking.” Future craned his neck, looking at the blonde in the blue button-up sitting so calmly at the joint of his hips. They were a copper wire, home to a current of anticipation.

“Then I’d consider this responding.” 

Speaker pushed himself inside them, slow and smooth, relishing in the surprised gasp that snuck its way out of Future’s open mouth while they weren’t looking, the sudden aching arch of Future’s spine, the fingers grasping for purchase on taut ropes. He set a languid pace, a slow in-and-out, listening to the deep, soft whines that fought their way from behind Future’s gritted teeth, the rapid, ragged breathing as Future’s body betrayed them. 

“You’re rather cute like this, did you know that? Fraying at the seams, eager for anything. Pliable. That would be a nice word for it.” Speaker let a hand wander to cup their cheek, guiding their face down to lock eyes.

“I’m—” Future cut themselves off with a breathy moan, making itself heard between closed lips as Speaker thrust in deeply, irregularly, breaking the pattern for a heartbeat before returning to his previous tempo. “I’m not fraying.”

“Of course.” Speaker consoled. “So strong,” he reached his hand from their face to under their spine, urging them to lift their ass, getting a better angle, “so brave,” he gave Future’s ass a squeeze as he ground himself in deeper, chasing his own high, “so sexy,” he let his own moan, pressing his mouth against their neck, nipping at the salty sweat-slicked skin.

Future opened his mouth, but his words, what Speaker presumed to be an approximation of ‘You bet I’m sexy’, were shattered and lost before they passed their lips. It was a collection of satisfied gasps and whimpers that rewarded Speaker for his efforts, a quiet yelp for the fingernails digging into their lower spine, the teeth pulling at vulnerable skin, the cock buried hilt deep, pressing into the oh-right-there spot inside him. They jerked their hips up, barely in control of their actions, finding the flat expanse of Speaker’s torso waiting for them, and rutting up into him.

“Someone’s eager.” Speaker’s voice reverberated through Future, bouncing around their head and pooling at the base of their hips. A hand moved from his ass to pump in time with Speaker’s thrusts.

That was all the encouragement Future needed, desperate whines flowing from their lips as Speaker picked up the pace, letting his own groans join Future’s as the world seemed to melt away, leaving only the bedroom and the space, too much space, between them. Speaker could hear the desperation in Future’s panting breathing, smell the heady scent of hope and pleading, feel Future’s muscles tense up in excited anticipation, his own orgasm quickly building, bouncing off of the arousal of the achingly close person beneath him.

“Speaker,” It was more a wordless, slurred moan than a name, head turned skyward, mouth fallen open. “Speaker please.”

Speaker rutted harder, feeling his senses blur at the liquid words, flooding straight down to his core, threatening to spill.

“Please, I need it.” Future’s hands clawed at the ropes, desperate for something to sink their fingers into, chest rising and falling with each quick breath.

Speaker obliged, more for himself than anything, desperate touches and grasps culminating in Future’s loud moan as Speaker, bent over, resting his weight on his elbow, felt a warm heat spatter his chest and hand, as he felt the burning fire in his own being overflow and spill into Future. He pulled himself up, some time later, heavy breathing giving his hands a shaking cant as he tugged on the ropes binding Future’s arms and legs, letting his weight rest on the other person’s body, taking comfort in the hands that pet clumsily at his hair.

“’Nk you.” Future mumbled, feeling their breathing slow as they felt themselves relax more, taking comfort in the warm mass on top of them.

“Mm, you did so good.” Speaker pressed his face into the nearest available expanse of skin, pressing a kiss into Future’s upper neck, enjoying the soft, pleased trill that Future gave him. “So, so good.”

“You did good too.” Future’s reply was so slurred as to be near unintelligible, hands weaving their way skillessly though Speaker’s hair, clumsy and comforting.

“Thank you.” Speaker let himself roll over onto his back beside Future, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m going to take a shower and sleep in my own bed, alright? If you’d like to swing by, then I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

Future gave a slight chuckle at this. “I think I might then, oh great and mighty Speaker. But,” they hefted themselves up on their elbows, leaning over Speaker and giving him a quick kiss, “I think I’ll be taking the shower first.” 

And with that, Future eased off of the bed and out of the door, listening to Speaker’s protests. That was the only open shower. Speaker sighed and let his eyes skim over Future’s room, listening to the pipes strain to accommodate a second shower, taking in the posters of punk bands and old movies, illustrations of anatomy sliced out of medical textbooks that had outlived their use, an electric guitar resting against the wall, black and red under sporadic stickers.

There were pictures, too, of Future and their friends, grinning widely under a mop of white hair, of Future and Sayer, both scowling into the camera, pulled from their activities, of Speaker himself and Hale, chatting in the kitchen, an easy glimmering beam of light illuminating them from the back, pouring through the curtains. The brunt of the pictures weren’t ones of Future. Instead, they were of people Speaker knew well or vaguely, if at all. The constellation of a wide-reaching social butterfly. People smiling and scowling, laughing so hard they cried and crying so hard they laughed, and all the emotions in between.

Speaker was surprised to see one of Anna Cordero, looking up at the camera from the second half of a desk, papers strewn about, pen in hand, bemused smile decorating her face, and Evan Brady, wires of some robotics project placed around his head like a crown, beaming at the person behind the camera, hand adjusting the tangle proclaiming his coronation.  
And there was the only picture of Young, almost entirely covered by others taped over his body and face, half of his image peering out, smugly grinning at Future behind the camera, eyes crossed out with black sharpie. Right. That issue. Speaker made a mental note not to press, instead, letting his eyes drift close and breathing slow, relaxing in someone else’s comfort. He could live like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Liked the smut? Send a message or leave a tip! I'm always down to chat! https://timeslive-inhouse.tumblr.com/


End file.
